


Insider Trading

by DAsObiQuiet



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Character Growth, Character Study, Dysfunctional Family, Family, Family Drama, Family Feels, Gen, Saving the World, Second Chances, Time Travel, Time Travel Fix-It, well -- kind of.
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-09
Updated: 2021-01-01
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:27:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24085081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DAsObiQuiet/pseuds/DAsObiQuiet
Summary: AKA: I'm still not a good person.How sad is it that the only hope for the dying world is the son of the man who did the most damage?
Relationships: Aerith Gainsborough & Cloud Strife, Rufus Shinra & Aerith Gainsborough, Rufus Shinra & Cloud Strife, Rufus Shinra & President Shinra |Rupert Shinra, Rufus Shinra & Reeve Tuesti, Rufus Shinra & Sephiroth, Rufus Shinra & The Turks, Rufus Shinra & Tseng
Comments: 65
Kudos: 261





	1. Chapter 1

Rufus ShinRa looked over the city of Edge from the apartment he'd purchased, face blank. A crowd had gathered below. Four pall-bearers carried the casket through the center, moving slowly and methodically: Vincent Valentine, Barrett Wallace, Tifa Lockheart and Cid Highwind. Nanaki walked at the front of the procession, his tail up and leading the way as if to shine the dreariness of Edge away. It didn't work.

Behind him, directly in front of the casket, walked Reeve Tuesti carrying his Cait Sith doll. Said doll had curled up in his hands and seemed to be mourning in its own way. Yuffie Kisaragi trailed behind, dressed to the nines as a Princess of Wutai, a full entourage of Wutain soldiers and servants carrying lamps of incense, creating a sort of haze around the foreign group. In the very back, came Denzel and Marlene, followed by Shelke.

Denzel looked straight ahead, eyes not shifting from one side to another. He looked pale, if stoic, but Rufus could recognize shock when he saw it. Marlene, on the other hand, was openly weeping, her shoulder shaking and her hands over her face, pressing a handkerchief to it. Shelke just looked puzzled, if alert. It was her job to take care of the two teenagers.

Elena and Rude moved through the crowd, keeping up as Rufus had ordered, looking out for trouble and taking care of minor problems that popped up before they became larger problems. The last thing they (both Edge and AVALANCHE) needed was some sort of riot.

The executive had one hand crossed over his chest and another in front of his face. Instead of his normal, white suit, he'd donned a black one as he, too, was in mourning. Behind him, Tsung and Reno stood, both quiet and stoic. Reno, who had refused to go to the gathering, stating that they wouldn't want him there. Tseng who wouldn't leave Rufus' side.

As they watched AVALANCHE pass by, his mind went over the events of the previous year. They'd cured Geostigma… or so they'd thought. The purifying water definitely did its job, but Jenova was… well, Jenova. Initially, she'd been known for taking on the likeness of the Ancients' lost ones. Sephiroth had mutated and could quite literally take over bodies with enough cells in them. Genesis and Angeal could make copies of themselves in various ways. Jenova cells were fluid and tended to adapt very quickly.

And adapt they did.

And the first people who had been affected by the new, once again incurable disease, had been those with the most Jenova cells in them, no matter how 'purified' they'd been; namely, former SOLDIERS. They'd been dropping left and right, and despite never being officially part of it, Cloud had been no different.

It hadn't taken him long to succumb to the new strain.

Honestly, everything had looked hopeful while the former infantry man was alive, but now…? If Jenova could take out their strongest so easily… And who would fight against the next uprising? The rest of AVALANCHE? Frankly, Rufus was surprised Vincent seemed to be holding up as well as he was. Either the experiments had finally begun to wear on his body or the Omega battle had really taken its toll. The rest of them were strong, but without someone with Mako enhancements, it would be odds or evens, and that was if the social unrest and fear of the outbreak of the newer, more aggressive strain of Geostigma didn't tear the known world apart first.

Rufus hadn't, by some miracle, contracted the disease this time, but it was only a matter of time. He did not like the idea of going back to the pain and fatigue those black rashes caused and had, once again, locked himself away from the crowd and masses. Unlike the first strain, this one seemed to act more like an actual disease, spreading through touch and closeness with the remaining SOLDIERS as patient zeros. It acted differently than the first outbreak, and Rufus had scientists working around the clock to try and find a cure, but in that moment, he couldn't deny that he was worried.

His words to Kadaj came back to his mind. _Go on; bring your Jenovas and your Sephiroths; cause trouble t_ _o_ _your heart's content._ _We_ _will do as life mandates. We promise, we won't let you win, we'll stop you._ _Every time.*_

He'd meant those words. He still felt them, but it was getting harder and harder to believe in them. With so many people dying, _again_ , it looked more like life would just succumb as the SOLDIERS had.

The Wutai war had cost the Wutians almost half of their population, and no small amount of ShinRa's. The bombing of Kalm, the Gongaga reactor explosion, and the original AVALANCHE all had detrimental effects on the population as a whole, but were ultimately small in comparison with the War. That had been the first cataclysmic loss of life. Even Nibelheim, while devastating, had been on a small scale in comparison when it came to Wutai.

Which really said so much.

But the little things have a way of building up and everything up to that point contributed to the current problem.

Then the Sector 7 plate and following AVALANCHE and some strange manifestation of Sephiroth's will across the world had done its own number on the population. Then Meteor and they'd lost almost 90% of the worlds most populated city: A city already reeling from the Sector 7 plate drop.

Then Geostigma had wiped out a good 10 – 15% of the remaining world's population. The Remnant's attack on Edge, the Omega and Deepground crisis… By Rufus' peoples' best estimates, the world had lost over 60% of it's population in the last 20 years. And that didn't even account for the newest strain of Geostigma.

The situation was getting worse, not better.

And Rufus had no idea what to do about it.

"Did you send my condolence gift to them?" Rufus asked aloud.

"Yes, sir," Tseng answered immediately.

"Their… reception?"

A brief hesitation. "They took it."

He didn't want to ask if Tseng had threatened or strong-armed Tifa into accepting his offer of a headstone and a memorial. Probably. Cloud likely wouldn't want to be remembered like that (although, he planned on putting Zachary Fair and the rest of AVALANCHE in the sculpture as well), but memorials were for the people left behind, not the deceased.

He'd already had work begun on it.

In all honesty, he really did want to help them as best he could. They'd saved the planet… or at least, put off its destruction, time and time again. They deserved to be remembered.

Most of them didn't seem to _want_ to be remembered though. It made absolutely no sense to Rufus. He'd only really realized how different their mind-set was recently, and he doubted he'd ever really understand them. He was doing the best he could.

But it wasn't enough.

It was never enough.

When did he get so cynical?

Was he ever really idealistic? Or just entitled? Barrett Wallace said he was still entitled. No one had disagreed with him. Rufus wasn't sure how he could be 'entitled'. Sure, he had money, but he was trying to be better…

And that just reiterated how his efforts just weren't enough.

He was done with this.

Sighing, he turned away from the window. "I'm going to bed early. Wake me up in eight hours."

"Sir!" both Reno and Tseng said at the same time.

"Keep monitoring the situation."

"Yes, sir," came the unison reply again just before Rufus shut the door to his bedroom.

He walked to the bathroom to have a shower and turned the faucet on to let the water heat up and began stripping, throwing his clothes on the floor for one of his servants later. He'd just gotten his shirt off when he caught sight of himself in the mirror and stopped, walking over to it and looking over the man he saw there.

Thirty years old. Thirty, and what had he done? By this age, his father had been well on his way to making the ShinRa Electric Company a world power – a government in its own right. And Rufus' accomplishments? He'd tried to make everyone respect him through fear after doing his best to take away any hope they had, seen his company fall – quite literally – in flames, almost died multiple times, gotten sick and jumped off a building. Maybe somewhere in there, he'd done a little growing up.

He expected a younger, thinner version of Rupert ShinRa to look back at him. Overall, he'd always taken after his father. They had the same hair and eye color, same nose, same chin (if one looked at Rupert's older pictures, without the fat)… but the man that looked back at Rufus didn't remind him of his father. Rupert had never had the utterly _exhausted_ look Rufus sported now. No, that had been all his mother. His mother who kept up appearances and, in all honesty, could probably be a better under cover agent than most Turks with how she could hide her emotions. He'd only caught glimpses of her tru self a couple of times before she'd died, when she thought he hadn't seen. He'd thought she looked pathetic at the time.

Now he just felt sorry for her.

Married to a man who didn't love her and was almost openly unfaithful to her; forced to be the eye candy and perfect wife, no matter how she'd felt. Mother of a son who hadn't wanted much to do with her, despite all she tried to do for him… Alone in a gilded cage full of self-righteous people who didn't care about anyone but themselves.

It was a wonder she'd lasted as long as she had. He remembered when he'd been informed of her death, just after he'd begun funding the first AVALANCHE. He'd been informed and then they'd had a closed-casket funeral that lasted all of an hour before he and his father had just gone back to their own projects. Part of him had wondered, once, if she'd faked her own death just to get away from Rupert (and him, although he hadn't seen that at the time), and now he hoped she had. He'd never cared to double check.

And yet, that woman stared back at him. He could only see her weary eyes and the bags she'd tried to hide with makeup. He didn't bother. Blond hair (although hers had been a darker, mousy blond) styled perfectly over grey-blue eyes that had once been far brighter. He looked… dull. Maybe it was just him? His own perception? Did it matter?

He sighed again and opened the mirror so he wouldn't see himself anymore and stepped into the shower, luxuriating in the warm water. If he weren't so tired, he'd break down and have a bath, but he really just wanted to go to bed and forget everything for a while. He could deal with everything when he woke up tomorrow.

When he got out and back into his room, bath towel tied firmly around him, he found a warm meal waiting and smiled. At least he had his Turks. Loyal to a fault, each of them, and competent to boot. He honestly couldn't ask for more. Not realistically (not that that hadn't stopped him from trying when he'd been young and stupid…).

He quickly ate his meal, left what he couldn't stomach on the tray and retired, falling asleep fairly quickly.

He woke up in a field of flowers.

For several seconds all he could do was look at said flowers and blink. Then he turned his gaze up. In the distance, in any direction, all he could see was white. No sound, no darkness, no blemishes or breaks except what came from him and the flowers.

He didn't know what to say at first, so he said nothing. He could feel the flowers brushing his skin and smell their sweet fragrance. Could this be a dream? No… he was thinking far too coherently. A vision then? He'd never gotten a vision before...

"Hello, Rufus," said a soft voice behind him. He turned to look, but stopped about half way when he saw one Cloud Strife sitting a couple of feet to the side of him, facing the opposite direction.

"Cloud?" he asked, old habits keeping him from stuttering, but it was a near thing.

"You know," the other man (the _dead_ man) said, "you're lucky I'm a direct person. Other people don't like talking face to face here."

A soft giggle behind him, from two voices. One light and high, the second almost as deep as Cloud's. Said blond was staring straight ahead, expression dry. He was dressed in his traditional black with that same wolf's head on his shoulder. He didn't have a sword harness or his sword, but everything else looked so normal.

Rufus looked down at himself, seeing his typical white suit with purple accents. One of his favorites. He blinked.

"Am I… dead?" he asked.

Cloud snorted. "Hardly."

"But… you are?"

A small, half- smile touched the other man's lips. He didn't answer. He didn't need to.

"I see," the businessman said slowly.

"You always did catch on fast."

 _Not fast enough_ , Rufus thought to himself bitterly. He'd always caught onto business options and ways to maintain or grow his power base, but when it came to other people…

Any other people.

"So, to what do I owe this pleasure? Or are you simply visiting everybody in their dreams?"

Any mirth on Cloud's face vanished, although he didn't so much as move. Rufus frowned worriedly. Somehow he seemed even more dour than usual, even though Rufus couldn't figure out why he'd pick up on that. He never had before. Cloud had gotten notoriously difficult to read in his last couple of years.

"The planet's dying."

Rufus tried not to flinch at that. "Yes… I came to a similar conclusion myself."

"She keeps losing her weapons."

The business man frowned. "Emerald and Ultima?" he asked, not wanting to name all of them.

"And me."

Rufus felt his eyes widen. "You?"

Cloud nodded once, a short but firm bob. "She didn't expect me to die."

"Oh." It would take a minute to get his head wrapped around that.

"The Calamity mutated," the soft voice from behind him said.

He got the distinct impression that he shouldn't turn around this time and decided to follow that.

"Of course, she did," Rufus muttered. "Did we expect differently?"

"We thought we'd finally been able to purify her cells," said the third voice, male, with a bright undertone despite the solemn topic.

"We?" the second voice asked.

A snort. "Fine, you."

Somehow, Rufus could feel an approving smile from the second voice. He had a pretty good idea who the voices belonged to. He just couldn't understand why they were talking to him.

"So, what do you want me to do about it?" he asked, happy to bring the attention back to himself.

"We have an idea," the second voice said slowly.

Cloud's expression (somehow) became drier. "We want to send you back in time."

A groan, then the third voice almost whined, "Spike…"

The blond warrior just raised an eyebrow.

"You know, Sephiroth used to do that."

That got a reaction as Cloud's eyes narrowed.

"What? It's true!"

Rufus inserted himself again, gaze focused intently on Cloud. "Why me?"

This time, the warrior turned to look at Rufus, mako-blue eyes as intense as ever. "Are you refusing?"

Well, it was nice to know he _could_ refuse.

"Not necessarily, but… why choose me? Why not you?"

Cloud sighed. "The planet couldn't send me back while I was alive due to the high concentration of Jenova cells in my body and the influence it had on me."

"We probably could have found a way," the third voice said, voice solemn again, "but he died before we could."

"And that's a problem because…?" Rufus asked.

"There's a difference between the memories of the dead and the memories of the living," the second voice explained.

The not-quite soldier beside him nodded and took up the explanation. "If the planet tried to send me back into my younger body, the memories would likely kill my younger self. So we had to choose someone living."

Rufus wasn't convinced. "There's still a risk." There always was. Nothing of worth came for free.

Cloud nodded. "It's small."

The businessman snorted. "Not small enough that you would ask one of your AVALANCHE friends."

A moment of silence, but Cloud's gaze never wavered. "They didn't have the kind of political and social power you did," he said.

Rufus wanted to throw his hands in the air, but settled for rolling his eyes. "Which is part of the problem. I'm not a good person, Cloud." Even with all the growing up he'd done – maybe _because_ of that – he could admit that that still applied to him. Rufus was still a spoiled, attention-hoarding heir. Nothing would ever change that.

"That's why I need a promise from you, Rufus: If you accept this offer, I need you to promise us you will put the well being of the world above ShinRa, no matter the cost."

Rufus leaned back from Cloud, eyebrows raised and slanted in wariness. Did he really mean that? Did he expect Rufus to not take advantage of that and just go back and be a hero? He'd never wanted to be a hero. Heroes lived terrible lives and died.

Or they fell and became the villain. Hello, Sephiroth.

"I don't know why you think you can trust me with this," Rufus finally responded, because _really_?! The entirety of AVALANCHE had never hidden disdain for him and his company. Not that he could blame them… now.

Cloud's little smile returned. "Mainly because you keep asking and pointing that out. You're not as bad as you think you are. Not anymore."

"But Lockheart, or Wallace or even Highwind—"

"Might be able to do something, but Tifa was in Nibelhiem until she was sixteen, Barrett lived in a coal-mining town that ShinRa had its eye on and Cid has never been particularly ambitious about anything that didn't have to do with flying or space."

"Valentine or Nanaki then."

"Nanaki would have a hard time leaving Cosmo Canyon, even with everything he'd know, and traveling or being taken seriously would be worse." Because humans are self-righteous creatures who didn't know (or accept) that any other species could be intelligent. They all knew that. "Vincent was locked in a coffin for twenty years and only released when his former Turk partner found him."

"When was that?"

"About a year before we found him," said the second voice. Well, that confirmed her identity in any case. Then he could sense someone walking towards him and fought the urge to turn around again. Somehow, he knew this would vanish if he did.

"Rufus, do you think so terribly of yourself?"

He didn't think terribly of himself, he was just realistic.

"I told you, I'm not a good person."

"C'mon, man," the third voice piped in, "anyone can be a hero if they try hard enough."

Rufus' jaw clenched. "Maybe I don't _want_ to be a hero. Heroes tend to die ignominious deaths."

Cloud's eyes narrowed, even though he was staring straight ahead and not at Rufus again. "You think you were randomly picked? We chose you for a reason."

"Because I had the power at the time, yes, I understand that," Rufus said, waving his hand dismissively. "And you think I've somehow changed from what I used to be. I haven't." Not as much as they were implying in any case. "I am still the rich, greedy son of the former president of the world. And I always will be."

The not-SOLDIER's face smoothed out again. "You're afraid."

Rufus sputtered. "What? Of course not! Why should I—"

"That's good."

The living man shut his mouth with a clop. How was being afraid good?

"You're not afraid of the situation, you're afraid of yourself," Aerith said softly. She sounded like she'd come to sit right behind him. And had she read his mind? He stiffened, but still didn't turn to face her.

A snort from the third voice (Zachary? Likely). "Every hero in the world – every person with any responsibility – has questioned themselves. I did. Spiky did. Aerith did."

Rufus shook his head. "You give me too much credit."

Why was he refusing this? If he accepted, it wasn't like they could take it back… could they?

"And what if I go back and simply make sure ShinRa is the top company again? Ensure it never falls?" Because he would. "Would you bring me back here and send someone else?"

A pause. "We can only send one person. That's all the power the planet has," Areith said, almost whispering.

"Besides," likely-Zack said, "make ShinRa a good company and there won't be any issues."

Cloud snorted, but didn't dispute the claim. He probably didn't think that was possible. He probably wasn't wrong. Still..

"You're saying that I can go back, ensure ShinRa doesn't fall and you would endorse my actions?"

"If you put the world first, sure!" likely-Zack said, enthusiastically.

Again, Cloud didn't say anything.

That was… actually better than Rufus expected. And honestly, he didn't really have any more reasons not to do it. It wasn't as if he was leaving a promising future behind.

"I don't believe this is an offer I can turn down, then," Rufus said, feeling a hope bubble in his gut. He could save his family's business and become president of the world! Getting another chance at that…

"The people," Cloud finally said, still not looking at him.

"What?" Rufus asked.

Cloud turned a glare on him. "The people make up the planet. Do what's best for them."

The businessman frowned. "I cannot right all the wrongs in the world."

The warrior nodded. "Good people accept that, but try anyway."

Rufus just stared at him. That… really said so much about Cloud Strife right there.

He cleared his throat. "What about this world?"

"We'll still do what we can to help it along. We will try to find a way to counter Jenova's presence," Aerith said.

"But in case we can't," likely-Zack said.

Rufus took a deep breath.

"Promise," Cloud said.

The other blond blinked. "Excuse me?"

"Promise us that you will put the planet first."

Rufus leaned back and away a little bit. "Well, I—"

"Promise!" Cloud insisted.

Rufus sighed. If he promised, he planned on keeping said promise. "Very well."

"Say the words."

The businessman rolled his eyes. "I promise."

"To?"

Cloud really never should have become a parent.

"To put Gaia and its people first, before the ShinRa company."

The warrior looked past him to likely-Zack and Aerith. He nodded at them, then nodded back at Rufus, holding out his hand to shake.

"Good luck."

Cloud didn't seem like the type of person to wish people luck, so Rufus appreciated the gesture a little more than he otherwise would have when he reached out and took the man's hand. No sooner had his hand grasped the other, then the world faded away.

xXx

Rufus woke up… in his bed… in his old room… in a building that had exploded years ago… with a numerous amount of dates in his head that he most certainly hadn't known before and only some inkling to their significance.

Oh, so they couldn't send a dead person back, but a live person with dead memories was just fine.

He groaned, rolled over and put his head under his pillow.

They could deal with him not saving the world for ten more minutes.

xXx

AN: So, remember when I said I had two time-travel fics for FFVII? Um... try three. This is the third one. The one that is coming to me easily enough in between me drawing for my comic. If you want to support that, go to Webtoons and search for HACamp. Two series will come up, the one I'm entering into the contest is called 'Hope for Scars' and I could really use some likes and subscribes! 

<https://www.webtoons.com/en/challenge/hope-for-scars-h/list?title_no=430254>


	2. Chapter 2

Tseng didn't remember the last time he'd gotten more than four hours of consecutive sleep (most likely the last time he'd been confined to the hospital, several years ago). It didn't bother him, though. It was simply his state of being and he dealt with it as necessary. He made sure that he presented himself as he was taught a Turk should at all times, knowing that one teaches by example, (not to mention it tended to be a rather useful intimidation tactic, to always be as put-together as possible, and when one worked with enhanced humans, one needed as much as intimidation as they could get).

Today was no different, he mused from his place behind the President. He'd had a total of three hours of sleep last night before his duties had called for him to start the new day, although he'd likely take the time for a short nap later on if it proved necessary. Unfortunately, one of those duties came in the form of a very long, very boring board meeting. Yet he remained still, spine straight and shoulders back, the very picture of composure. While he rarely moved his head, his eyes constantly darted around, ready for a threat and always classifying information. With the exception of the board members themselves, no one else besides his fellow Turk was in the room and he could sense no threat. That didn't stop him from keeping his guard up. That was, after all, his job and he took his job very seriously.

He carefully categorized each department head's reaction to Scarlett as she pushed for more funding. Again. Some of them listened attentively (Palmer, Tuesti and _Deusericus_ , albeit for different reasons). Some of them listened with a scathing, barely hidden anger (Heidigger, mainly, although no one else looked particularly happy) or boredom (The President and Veld – although, only someone who knew the man well would be able to tell) and some tuned her out entirely (Hojo).

His gaze flicked from the occupied seats to the one empty seat near the head of the table and he suppressed a sigh. Recently, Rufus had begun to act a little more interested in the business that supported the wealth he seemed to enjoy so much. Tseng had thought he (and the other Turks that practically raised the boy) had finally gotten through to their future president, urging him to be more responsible and involved. Rufus had even agreed to come back from Junon for a couple of weeks to attend conferences like this and to see how the business (and the Government) was run. It had given the Turks hope for his (and the company's) future. A vain hope, apparently. At least, as of this moment. He didn't like to admit it to himself, but Tseng couldn't help but be a little… disappointed.

Still, he could do nothing but adjust his plans accordingly and move to correct the issue to the best of his abilities. If Rufus didn't start taking this seriously, he would not be ready to take over the company when the time came. He would likely take the Presidency anyway and then drive the business into the ground. Money made the world go 'round, but it was not the only pillar a business that had become a government could stand on. Especially if the company was mishandled.

"Very well," the President speaking drew Tseng out of his thoughts, but he didn't look at the man, continuing to scan the room instead. He saw President ShinRa rise. "I will consider your proposal. Are there any other matters to discuss today?"

When no one answered him, he nodded firmly. "Good. Dismissed."

Hojo was the first to rise, hurrying out of the room while muttering under his breath about the waste of time this had been. Not unusual. Heidegger seemed like he wanted to stay after and speak privately with the President, which, of course, meant Scarlett wanted to remain behind as well, but the President walked by them both without a glance back.

"Sir," Heidegger started, but the president didn't even stop as he spoke up.

"If you have grievances, you should have spoken up during the meeting." The word 'coward' echoed silently around the room after his statement, which seemed to poke at Heidegger's already visibly fraying temper. It wasn't like Heidegger to be quiet about his opinions, though, which brought up the question: why hadn't he spoken up? Tseng made a mental note to speak about the change in habit with Veld and investigate.

Still, as furious as the head of the infantry seemed to be, he knew his place. "Yes, sir," he said, bowing at the waist. Scarlett didn't even bother hiding her smirk Tseng wanted to roll his eyes at the childish antics. These were grown adults, for Leviathan's sake.

Tseng didn't let any emotion show on his face as he followed the President out of the conference room and into the hall outside. Before they got onto the elevator, though, the older man spoke.

"Go and see what happened to my son," he said tersely. "And inform him of my… disappointment."

Tseng glanced at the other Turk who had been on guard with him, a pretty blond named Shotgun. She nodded at him and he returned the gesture before turning and heading towards a different elevator.

He took said elevator down to the correct floor on his own, texting his new orders to Veld to keep him in the loop. He got off at the correct floor and walked down the hall towards one of the few apartment suites in the building. He stopped to make sure he was still presentable before knocking on the door.

The sound of movement came from behind the door rather quickly, and then the door opened to reveal Rufus ShinRa, still in his sleep clothes (it was almost noon) looking rather blankly at Tseng. That was surprising. He'd honestly expected a slower response and a lot more sass, laziness, boredom and/or rebellion. If anything, the sight of Tseng seemed to… relax him.

Curious

"Tseng," the fifteen-year-old said, opening the door further.

"Sir," the Turk said with a polite nod.

"Is there a problem?" the youth asked, looking genuinely concerned. Had he forgotten about the meeting? That wasn't like Rufus. Tseng held back a frown, keeping his face as straight as always.

"Your father sent me to ask you why you didn't attend the board meeting today."

He got a blank stare in response. Then the teen glanced over his shoulder, dry annoyance on his face. After a moment, he sighed as if the weight of the world was on his shoulders as he turned back to face Tseng.

"Ah. Yes. I… am working on a project and I seem to have lost track of time."

The former Wutian blinked.

"A… project?" he asked.

Rufus rubbed the bridge of his nose and nodded before turning around, gesturing for Tseng to follow him. "Yes. One that will benefit the company if I do my research correctly."

Wait… _research_? Rufus _hated_ doing research. Or, well, any work that didn't involve a gun.

"May I ask what this project is regarding?" Tseng asked slowly as he passed by the small, pristine table and set of chairs Rufus had set up in his receiving room.

The boy sighed again.

"A thorough scrutiny of the ShinRa Company as it currently stands and all the departments therein; the likely effects of said departments on the company now and what situations they can lead to in the future; where we can improve and discrepancies that will need to be investigated and/or addressed."

Tseng found that statement hard to swallow. The boy had never _cared_ enough to put in some actual work like that before. He was rather lazy and a bit spoiled (he had to admit, even if only to himself) and he seemed to care only about himself and keeping comfortable. Or at least he had until today.

Stepping into the modest 'home' office connected to Rufus' receiving room was like walking into a completely different apartment. Whereas the first room had been clean and well-kept, this room sported all manner of papers piled everywhere – on top of tables, chairs, shelves, the lone desk – while the computer sat on and open with several ShinRa-net tabs across the top of the screen and _more_ papers slowly rolling out of the connected printer.

What.

Rufus stopped just inside the door, carefully stepping over piles of papers and folders on the ground and then gestured around the room.

"My project."

Tseng blinked again, half-expecting the spectacle to disappear. It didn't. Finally he turned to Rufus.

"Sir?"

Rufus sighed as if put upon (thank goodness for _some_ normalcy). "I'm almost sixteen, Tseng, and eventually, the company will come to me. I know Father has been trying to get me more involved in running the business and it… just hit me last night before falling asleep that I need to start listening to that advice more. So I'm going over everything I can."

Tseng blinked again, still trying to wrap his mind around the change. The boy before him still had similar mannerisms and his gait had seemed like Rufus', so it couldn't be a very well-disguised imposer. Not even Wuitain spies were _that_ good. _And yet…_

"I… see," the Turk finally heard himself say.

Rufus glanced at him, one eyebrow raised in wry amusement that seemed a little too fond for his usual expressions. He seemed very entertained somehow. Was this a prank of some kind? Rufus had never been particularly prone to pranks like this. Most of his had been rather mean-spirited and messy, but over with quickly. He hadn't been a subtle child. That had come later.

Something that did catch Tseng's eye was a cork board leaning against one side of the room. It had what looked like a timeline of some sort on it, but not one Tseng could make heads or tales of. The three top first-class SOLDIERS had their names scattered along it, among other names the Turk had never seen before. 'Cloud Strife', 'Barrett Wallace', 'Tifa Lockheart', 'Nanaki'. Just who were these people?

Then he saw three names he _did_ recognize: Reeve Tuesti, Cid Highwind and Hojo.

There were also initials like 'AG', 'VV', 'YK', 'CS', 'J', 'BM', 'DG', 'AV I', and 'AV II' as well as the words 'METEOR', 'WEAPONS' and 'GEOSTIGMA'.

It had to be a code, right? He couldn't think of another explanation.

He didn't get much further than that before Rufus cleared his throat, gaining the Turk's attention.

"You can tell my father that I will likely have reports for him about my thoughts by the end of the week," he finally said, waving his hand and heading over to the printer to pick up the papers resting there. Tseng recognized the dismissal but found himself reluctant to leave. Was there, perhaps, a virus going around that caused people to act differently than before? First Heidegger and now Rufus…

Still, his training kicked in and he found himself nodding and turning to leave the apartment despite his hesitation, although he couldn't leave without at least an admonition.

"I believe your father would still like you to attend meetings," he said.

Rufus left his papers on the desk by the computer and followed his guest back to the door. "Please. If my father can let Hojo run amok in his science lab and only come to the occasional board meeting, then why should my project be any different?"

Tseng found himself wanting to argue, but he had a good point. Albeit, Hojo had proved his worth whereas Rufus had yet to really contribute anything. Explaining all of this to the President wasn't something he was looking forward to either. Still, it was his job. He'd never shirked his duty before and he saw no reason to start now.

"I will have lunch sent up here," he said over his shoulder as he strode into the hall.

"Thank you," Rufus said, almost causing Tseng to lose his step. Rufus never thanked _anyone_.

He got no further insights as he heard the door close behind him. The Turk didn't turn to look back, he had too much discipline for that. He'd prided himself on his ability to roll with the punches. He would figure this out. No matter how long it took.

xXx

Tseng stood at attention as the President stared out of his window overlooking Midgar.

"A project, you say?" he said slowly.

"Yes, sir. I saw it with my own eyes. He has been working on something and putting a lot of effort into being… thorough."

"Hmm," the President frowned. "Did you see for yourself what the project was about?"

"He had information pages about some of the board members on his computer, sir. He also had a timeline with names of various people, only some of which I knew. I was planning on looking the ones I didn't recognize up."

The older man nodded. "Yes. Do that."

"Of course, sir. Unfortunately, I didn't see much else." But what he had seen did lend some support what Rufus had told him. He wasn't sure what the President expected if it was otherwise.

"This is unusual for him," the blond man said after several seconds of contemplative silence, "but not unwelcome. Still… keep an eye on him."

In other words, put a watch on him. They could do that discreetly, he'd just have to inform Veld first. And it would be limited if they couldn't get any listening or observation devices into the apartment.

"Yes, sir."

"Keep me updated on the situation."

Tseng bowed. "Of course, sir."

Then he turned and strode out of the room. He had a rotation to set up.

xXx

The next several days consisted of a rotating watch on Rufus' apartment, mainly with drones as they couldn't seem to get much else into the room without being suspicious and Rufus swept for bugs. As he'd been taught to. By them. Tseng didn't know whether to be proud or frustrated that the boy seemed to have learned so well.

The first day of and after the initial change had Tseng looking up the general names he'd remembered reading but hadn't recognized. He could find no trace of any Tifa Lockheart or Nanaki. There were a couple of Barret and Barrett Wallaces in Midgar, but none in a position that should be of any interest to Rufus.

The only name that seemed to be of any decent connection was 'Cloud Strife', a blond-haired, blue-eyed cadet from a little town he'd only heard in passing before: Nibelheim. Apparently ShinRa had taken interest in the area a couple of decades ago, then abandoned more or less everything not ten years later.

Right around the time this Cloud Strife was born, actually.

What a coincidence.

Just about everything seemed redacted when it came to all of the information regarding the place, although it did have a connection to one silver-haired SOLDIER. What that connection was, Tseng didn't know, and somehow he suspected said information was above even his pay grade. Maybe once he took over from Veld he could get the information, but until then, he could only make notes about the connections and then go back to studying the (rather unimpressive) profile of the cadet.

He had his suspicions, but honestly, there was still very little or no reason for Rufus to take an interest in the boy, even if said suspicions turned out to be true.

All in all, he felt he came out of that research session with more questions than he'd gone into it with, and no answers.

Two days after the initial change in character, he stopped by Rufus' again, knocking on the door. The boy answered quickly, seeming far more put-together this time in a nice, button-down shirt and some slacks. His flamboyancy tended to come in the form of his overcoats, all of which had something unique about them. There wasn't much point to wearing them inside his own rooms.

The teen actually smiled as he saw who was at the door. "Ah, Tseng. Excellent. I have some files I'd like you to take to father."

Tseng blinked. Again.

Rufus opened the door and turned to the receiving-room table, upon which he had four folders.

"Please, peruse the information before you take it to Father. Oh, and I do have copies of all of this, naturally." Either he'd picked up on a lesson the Turks had been trying to teach him for years (that he hadn't been particularly receptive to) or this was another change to put in the 'unexplained' file Tseng had started on his charge. He'd never been that careful before.

Then Rufus left him alone, calling over his shoulder that he had almost finished compiling another one if he was willing to wait for about a half an hour.

Tseng most certainly was and told his future boss so.

Then the Turk looked at the four folders curiously and picked one up, opening it to the first page. Inside, he found information on Palmer. It showed his salary, then a list of his job duties, and then a thorough breakdown of whether or not he actually fulfilled those duties as well as a list of both major and minor rules of the company (and laws of the land) that he'd broken, with documentation to prove it. The very last piece of information showed how much Palmaer had (and was) cost(ing) the company.

At that point, the Turk wasn't surprised; he was floored. Most of his top-tier Turks couldn't have put that together in two days without some serious work, let alone four separate profiles. He put the folder back in it's place and eyed the others before reaching for the next one.

This one showed information on Lazard – whose record was far cleaner, but still not squeaky. He seemed to be a more typical businessman and nothing more. Other than his connection to both Rufus and their father, of course.

The third held information on Reeve Tuesti – who _did_ somehow have a squeaky-clean record and seemed to be costing the company the least amount of money. Tseng knew that wasn't entirely true as the man did use company property for his own experiments, but if they could turn a blind eye to Hojo's monstrosities, then Tuesti was a veritable walk in the park.

And, according to this, far better for the company.

Still, the profile was thorough enough that Tseng wanted to know the boy's sources. Had he been learning to hack, somehow? Without their knowledge? And wasn't that a terrifying thought. Yet, somehow less terrifying than the idea that he'd built an intelligence network right under their noses… or maybe this had been a longer time coming than any of them had realized?

He rubbed the bridge of his nose and picked up the final folder. This one was significantly smaller than the others and once Tseng opened it, he knew why. It held information on Veld. It was still more information than Tseng had ever seen in one place at any given point in his life.

He swallowed, refusing to look at more as it might actually put his life in danger. Did Rufus know what he was getting into with this?

Probably not.

He put the folders back on the table and walked into the sitting room to see the mess had somehow – impossibly – gotten worse.

"Tseng," the boy said, almost absent-minded as he fiddled with the printer. "Have someone send me more paper. I am running dangerously low and have far more to print out."

Yup. Definitely hacking.

Thank goodness.

The Turk opened his mouth, but Rufus cut him off, standing up.

"Oh, and I need permission for the files for these subjects." He thrust a small list into Tseng's hands. He took it and looked it over, feeling his face pale significantly. 'Promised Land', 'SOLDIER mental stability', 'The effects of Mako on the human body', 'Vincent Valentine', 'Project S' and 'Project G'.

What.

_What?!_

It took him a few moments to collect himself before looking up at Rufus, who had gone back to his computer and looked to be putting some papers of a hefty file in order. When he was finally composed, he opened his mouth again.

"Where did you find any reference to these?" he asked.

Rufus snorted. "You'd be surprised what people accidentally drop in common reports that fly right under the Turks' noses."

Oh. He'd have to fix that. Immediately. Somehow… most of his Turks were already rather busy. Maybe he could recruit? Surely the president would allow for such a change if it were vital in keeping the company's secrets secret.

"Besides," Rufus continued, "I'm the Vice President. I have a bit of clearance. Not enough or as much as I should have, mind you, but nothing to sneeze at either."

Tseng blinked and had to shake the panic from his mind. Just _how_ much did the boy know? He knew Rufus was supposed to have a fair amount of clearance, but not _this_ amount! Fortunately, he had plenty of practice in remaining calm.

"Why do you want to know about these?" he asked. May as well get as much information as possible.

"Well, this whole 'Promised Land' thing seems to be a driving force behind my father's machinations. I've discovered a few things that some of our elite SOLDIERS might not like and would like to know their mental state in case such things are discovered – perhaps we can head off the problem by getting a good therapist – which also led me to wanting to know more about the effect Mako has on the human body in all it's forms. Of course, I could likely research this on my own, but getting notes from the Science department would be easier and more thorough and it would give me more insight on the state of the department.

"The last three are just my curiosity, but I stumbled across some information about the man and was curious. He seemed to be involved in 'Project S', but disappeared, and I would like to know why. What was so important about that? Which led me to wanting to know more about Project S and Project G, both of which were mentioned in tandem a couple of times.

"Now," he paused and glanced over at Tseng, "can you get me permission?"

Tseng blinked at him for several seconds wondering where the entitled brat of a kid from a week ago had gone. Was changing like this normal for teenagers? Somehow, he didn't think so… but had no proof.

Still… he didn't seem to be a threat to the company. Quite the opposite in fact. "I can try," he said.

"Good. Get it to me ASAP." With that he turned back to the computer screen and began typing. "Did you come here for something?"

"Just… to check up on you."

Rufus blinked for a couple of moments as if that surprised him (really? He'd practically been _raised_ by Turks) before he shot a _genuine_ smile at Tseng. "Thank you. If you could get me some dinner, that would be appreciated."

Tseng raised his eyebrows. "Did you eat lunch, sir?"

"I forgot about food until you came in."

And when did he become a work-a-holic? This was getting worrisome.

"If you could get started on that?"

Tseng looked down at the list in his hand, then let out a long, slow breath. "Of course, sir."

He turned to go, but before he'd walked out of the sitting room, Rufus called him back.

"Tseng."

The Turk turned around, full attention on the son of his employer.

"If I, hypothetically speaking, of course, wanted to eliminate some problems on the board… would that be possible?"

Tseng frowned. "We're not assassins and we won't target your father."

Rufus snorted. "You're not _only_ assassins, and if I was making a move for the Presidency, I wouldn't have asked you. Please give me _some_ credit. No… it's someone else…"

The Turk gave an internal sigh. "Sorry, sir. Unless your father agrees with it, I cannot guarantee anything."

A pause as the blond thought about that. "Understandable, if frustrating and undesirable. Very well. I will have to convince him. In that same vein, can I put someone on a 'no hit' list? One that would need to go through myself or father – no other head of a department, mind you – before it could be carried out?"

Right about then, Tseng's mind just stopped working and all he could do was stare at the enigma that had somehow appeared before him. Since when did _Rufus ShinRa,_ of all people, actually worry for someone else's life?

"Well?" Rufus asked, annoyance lacing his tone.

"I… don't see why not, sir," Tseng finally answered.

The Vice President nodded. "Good, good. Then I want Tuesti under a 'no hit' policy. And even if father decides to override that, tell me first. Understood?"

Tsung felt as if he'd had to restart his brain a dozen times in the last five minutes. That couldn't be healthy. He couldn't leave this alone though. He had to get more information.

"Tuesti?" he asked.

Rufus nodded. "He is a good worker, and a literal genius. The way he handles his office is nothing short of inspiring. He does his job well and quickly and saves the company money. We can use people like that. Well," he snorted derisively, "I can. It would seem Father is determined to underestimate and under use him."

The Turk thought back to everything he'd seen in the man's folder and nodded.

"His… er… record isn't as clean as it may seem," he finally decided to venture slowly.

The Vice President had already gone back to his computer. "I'm sure. But if he is doing under the table dealings, his are far more difficult to track or not significant enough to worry about. Especially not compared to Hojo." His tone darkened, taking Tseng back a bit. Then his whole expression seemed to melt into something more akin to sadness and respect. "Besides, he's a good man who actually _cares_. About the people he works with, about the people he represents, about his superiors, friends, family… he cares. And that," he turned back to Tseng with a familiar cocky expression, "is something I can exploit."

This wasn't the Vice President, Tseng found himself thinking again. Someone had taken the entitled, selfish brat of a sheltered rich kid and replaced him with… someone older, more world wary and cynical. Tseng wasn't sure what to think of the change.

After a couple of moments, he simply gave a small bow to the teen. "I'll see to your supper and more paper."

"Thank you."

And with that, he left, sending a note for an appointment with Veld. This was more serious than they'd realized.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: This hasn't been beta read. ^^;
> 
> Sooo, I don't know if anyone here knows, but I'm a professional artist. Maybe not a great one, but a professional one at least. Have a degree and everything. Would anyone be interested in watching me draw scenes and/or characters from my fanfics and/or original stories? Let me know!
> 
> Come discuss on discord: discord.gg.ezzFnGJ aka Obi's Den of Geek and Writerings


	3. Chapter 3

"Tseng," Rufus said the next time the Turk stopped by for the (not insignificant) last three profiles of the board members. He had to admit, he was _very_ curious to go through all of them.

Of the three of them, Hojo's was, by far, the largest, consisting of at least seven folders and Rufus had said he wasn't completely finished with it. Veld was curious as well and Tseng had instructions to take all of the profiles back to the office before delivering it to the President. Not to mention the way the information had been compiled would help them piece together their Vice President's potential network.

Hopefully.

"Yes, sir," the Turk finally answered.

Rufus handed over another small file. Inside was all the information the company had on one Cloud Strife: ShinRa cadet.

"I'd like to set up a meeting with him."

Tseng blinked. "If I may ask, why, sir?" He was a cadet. True, he showed promise (Tseng had gone to investigate him), but he was starting from scratch – less than, even as he had so many bad habits from being taught incorrectly or self-taught that it would take a great deal of time and effort to train said boy properly. He was mediocre at best.

"I've been thinking about my own safety as the future president of this company – and thus, the world. Ignoring Wutai, there will still be many people after my head. Including Wutai, I have to take more precautions than father has. This cadet will be immensely helpful."

Tseng allowed himself to frown ever so slightly. "How?"

Rufus just smiled and went back to cleaning up what was left of his 'project mess'.

Right about then, the Turk realized that Rufus was cleaning up scraps of information or extra pages that had been printed unnecessarily. He didn't see any used folders anywhere. Which made him wonder just where the boy had put the copies of the profiles that he claimed to have?

And why hadn't he called for a maid?

xXx

Cloud hoped he didn't look as nervous as he felt. He was pretty sure he did, but then, who could blame him? He'd been pulled out of class. That, in and of itself, was highly unusual. The fact that he'd been fetched by a _Turk_ didn't help matters. At all.

Had he done something wrong? He didn't _think_ he had… but while he got along with most of his squad-mates, he didn't get along with all of them and it wouldn't be the first time he'd been framed for something he didn't do.

"In here, Mr. Strife," the man who had come to get him – one of obvious Wutian heritage with a dot in the center of his forehead and dark hair pulled back in a pony tail – nodded to him politely as he opened a door to one of the offices on one of the higher floors that Cloud most certainly did not have access to as a lowly cadet (he'd lost track of which one specifically thanks to his nervousness – he should probably work on that).

The boy swallowed and nodded, walking into the room as confidently as he could. Inside, he found another boy a bit older than him sitting at the end of a long conference table. He had blond hair slicked back from his face and wore what looked like a white overcoat and purple gloves. He wore a smile that made Cloud uneasy. It wasn't cruel or malicious, per se, but if the other boy was going for 'friendly' or 'trustworthy', he'd missed the mark.

On either side of said boy stood two more Turks. One looked just older than both he and Cloud and had red hair, a sloppy outfit and the grin of a cat who just got the canary, the cream and the catnip. The other was a much older man with dark, shoulder-length hair, glasses and a scar down the side of his face. He looked far more stoic and professional.

"Hello, Mr. Strife," the blond said as he gestured to the table. "Please, have a seat."

Doubling down on his nervousness, Cloud pulled out the nearest chair, at the foot of the table, and sat on the edge of it, his hands under the table and firmly in his lap. He tried not to wring them but wasn't very successful.

"Now, Cloud – do you mind if I call you Cloud?"

How was he supposed to answer that?! Could he answer in the negative? Probably not.

"Um… sure," he responded, mentally kicking himself for his hesitation and uncertainty.

The other teen went on as if he hadn't noticed, for which Cloud was grateful.

"Cloud, then. Do you know who I am?"

The cadet felt sweat break out on his forehead. Was he supposed to know? Was this a test of some kind? There wasn't any royalty these days (except in Wutai, he supposed), so this couldn't be a duke's kid or something like that… but there were some awfully wealthy men in the city who may have sway enough to get their kid watched by the Turks.

People who could ruin his life without even realizing it and utterly destroy it if they actually tried.

Cloud didn't answer for several seconds, trying to wrack his brain, but he honestly had no idea. Except, he did remember the President had a kid not too long ago. Although Cloud didn't actually remember an announcement for said son's birth and didn't know the kids' name or age or description as there weren't many pictures of him out there. It didn't help that Cloud came from Nibelheim and was lucky to get any news. Realizing he'd been quiet for several seconds now and that he needed to answer, he decided that honesty was the best policy.

"No, sir. I'm sorry, sir," he said, trying to make his voice come out as more than a whisper. He'd never been like this at home! Why was this so difficult for him?

Right, the kid may very well have the power to completely ruin his life. Or worse, send him back to Nibelheim. He hated it, but it was a good reason.

"Good."

Cloud blinked and couldn't hide his surprise.

The other blond sat back in his chair, chuckling. "That means I'm not well known as of yet and that my identity is safe. As for who I am," he leaned forward, grin taking on a sharp quality, "My name is Rufus. Rufus ShinRa."

The cadet could have sworn he felt his chair and the floor fall out from under him. Part of him was proud of himself for initially being on the right track, but most of him was just horrified. It occurred to him that this could be a prank, but he dismissed it pretty quickly. With the Turks involved, this had to be real. Not to mention the office and the ability to pull him out of class...

He stood as quickly as he could, coming to attention and saluting.

"Sir!" he said.

The other man chuckled again and waved his hand nonchalantly. "No need for that, cadet. You may relax and sit back down. At ease, or whatever it is they tell you to do."

Reluctantly, Cloud nodded and went to sit back down, now eyeing Rufus cautiously.

"Why am I here?" he asked, voice tight.

"A good question," Rufus replied. Then he sat back, putting up a hand to rest lightly against the side of his face as he looked Cloud over. He seemed… amused, for some reason. "Don't worry, you aren't in trouble."

The cadet felt his shoulders relax a bit, but that was the most relief he could convince himself to take.

"I've seen your file. You came from the Western Continent on your own about five months ago and enlisted as a cadet. You want to become a SOLDIER, correct?"

Cloud bit the inside of his cheek for a second. Almost everyone he'd told that to had either laughed in his face or dismissed him entirely. Everyone except his mother and Tifa. That had surprised him (rather pleasantly if he did say so himself). Those of his squadmates who hadn't outright mocked him seemed to find the idea amusing or even _cute_ (Bryce had said something about Cloud being their squad's _mascot_ of all things…).

Still, he hadn't backed down before, and – ShinRa or not – he wasn't about to start now. "Yes, sir."

To his surprise, the older boy just nodded. Then he sat forward, folding his hands on the table in front of him.

"Then I have a proposition to make, cadet. You see, I am looking to improve my own security. I will be making a debut soon, begin to have a public presence so I can eventually take over the company from my father. I'm sure you've heard of the many assassination attempts on my father's life?"

Cloud blinked. Just what was being proposed here? He hated that he didn't know, even as he inclined his head slowly in affirmation. "I've heard of a few," he said.

Rufus nodded as if it were a given… which, it kind of was, now that Cloud thought about it. "Now, while I have the utmost faith in the Turks as a security detail, I have recently become rather… paranoid." His amusement had returned, as if he knew a joke no one else did. "I figure a few extra precautions wouldn't hurt.

"I'm looking for someone to be my body double."

Cloud's mind screeched to a halt.

What.

He'd been hoping Rufus had somehow seen something in him and wanted him to become part of his guard detail or something. But a body double?

"I realize you're a bit on the short side, but that's not terribly difficult to fix – although it would take some training."

Cloud clenched his fists. He hated it when people pointed out how short he was, no matter the truth of their words.

Still…

"Why me, sir?" he asked softly.

Rufus raised an eyebrow in question, so Cloud clarified. "There are a half-dozen other boys with blond hair who are… closer to your height," and if he said that through clenched teeth, well, he didn't say something he'd really regret so he'd count it as a win for now. "If all you're looking for is blond hair and pale skin, then why me?"

The teenager across from him blinked, then smiled (a little sharply) and brought his hands up, still folded, in front of his mouth. "A couple of reasons. First, I want a cadet – someone who is young enough and raw enough that he can be trained from the beginning to be what I need him to be. So my age or younger. That will also help sell the image I'm going for.

"Secondly, the drive. Of the boys I looked at, you have advanced the most since you came here."

Cloud found himself scoffing. "That doesn't mean much when you start further behind than everyone else," he muttered, albeit loudly.

Rufus shrugged. "I'm looking more for potential for the future rather than competent now. I'm still not planning to really announce myself to the public until my sixteenth birthday in about four months, and I doubt I'll be a large part of the public after that – until I officially take over the company, which could be when I turn eighteen or when I turn forty, whenever my father decides to retire. I have time, and your drive to better yourself is something I can't help but admire. It's also something I would prefer working with.

"I know you weren't raised pampered or spoiled in any way. I realize you're from a small town and may have been somewhat… sheltered, but again, I read your file. You know struggle and don't expect everything to just be handed to you. That puts you leagues above the rest of the candidates for that alone.

"You're not stupid either. You hold your place with your studies solidly in the middle of the class and would be, I suspect, higher in the rankings if you simply had the stamina and build for the practical applications.

"Basically, you're smart, your honest, you're a dedicated hard-worker and you have most of the physical attributes I'm looking for. No, you don't look exactly like me, but again, those attributes that you don't have we can work around. You may have to learn to fight in heels though."

Cloud, whose eyes had gotten wider and wider as the Vice President went on (and he'd been unable to help his cheeks going darker and darker too) felt his whole face flush in embarrassment and horror.

" _What!?"_

Rufus shrugged. "It isn't impossible. Just difficult."

Cloud spluttered. "B-b-but h-heels?!"

And the amusement was back. "Is there something wrong with heels? You're androgynous enough, you'd probably pull off a dress well too."

If there had been any not-red skin on his face, it quickly disappeared, although he was able to force himself to not hide his face in his hands. It took everything he had, though. He hated his 'pretty face' almost as much as he hated his height (or lack thereof). It made him a target – it always had – and the combination ensured that he never had a social life.

Well, that, and the fact that he and his mother had been the town pariahs, but he'd hoped that would change when he'd gotten into the army.

It hadn't. And his looks had so much to do with that.

Rufus' amusement only seemed to grow at Cloud's increasing embarrassment.

Nothing he'd said had been wrong, per se. Perhaps exaggerated (he could _not_ pull off a dress, thank you very much!), but not _wrong_. Cloud had just never seen the traits the Vice President had highlighted as anything particularly outstanding. He'd always felt so… normal. Like he blended into the background when he needed to stand out (albeit, he stood out when he needed to blend in at times – hence the targeting and bullying).

Then the other boy's expression sobered.

"Look, Cloud, I'm going to be honest with you." He got the impression that Rufus didn't often sound so serious, and worried the cadet. A lot. "This job probably won't be safe or easy. You will essentially be a target in my place. I would expect you to keep up with your studies and if you think your physical training now is difficult, it's nothing compared to what I would likely expect of you as, naturally, I want you to be able to fight off who or whatever might come for me. I don't like losing my people, so the Turks would guard you as well as they would me. But even they can't stop everything, hence why I'm setting this up to begin with.

"As for why you should take it, there are two reason: 1…" he handed a piece of paper to the dark-haired Turk with glasses, who obligingly walked calmly around the table and handed said piece of paper to Cloud, who opened it. On it, he saw a number. A very large number.

"If you accept, that will be your compensation and quarterly salary."

The cadet felt his eyes nearly fall out of their sockets and he choked. Some people didn't make that much money in a _year_. His mother might have been able to claim this as her gross income after maybe three years, if she were lucky. He wasn't even sure he knew what he would do with that kind of money.

For the first time, he looked up at Rufus, disbelieving.

The other blond shrugged at his expression. "It's about what a SOLDIER first would make. Which brings me to my second point: if you say yes, I will put your name forth for SOLDIER candidacy and personally make sure you have the training necessary for it."

Somehow, Cloud's brain stopped working and he could only stare at the teen in front of him. This… this was too good to be true. He had to be missing something… he _had_ to be…

"What—" he started, but his voice sounded harsh and airy. He coughed a little, composing himself as best he could, then straightened up, looking Rufus dead in the eye. "What's the catch?" he asked.

Again, that one eyebrow went up.

"If something is too good to be true, it usually is. So what's the catch?"

Rufus's smile turned sly, if appreciative. How does one person have so many different _smiles_?

"As I said: you have a head on your shoulders. Here," he handed a folder to the Turk with the glasses (who had returned to Rufus' side). Said Turk retraced his steps and handed said folder to Cloud. "There is the contract. Read over it. I'm willing to negotiate."

Cloud looked down at the multi-page document inside the folder and gulped. He wasn't good at legalese… but he should be able to get the gist of it.

"Um… how long do I have?" he asked, glancing at the clock on the wall. They'd already been there for several minutes.

Rufus shrugged. "As long as you like. I've already sent for refreshments and I have the rest of the afternoon off. I'm also happy to excuse you from class for the rest of the day." Almost as if on cue, the older teen's phone went off and he checked it. "Ah, yes. Tseng is already on his way with those refreshments."

Cloud swallowed and looked down at the papers again. He took a deep breath and returned his gaze to the other teenager, nodding firmly.

Then he got to work.

xXx

ShinRa, it seemed, never did things by half.

The refreshments, as it turned out, were trays of tasty treats of all kinds – savory and salty, sweet, spicy, sour. Cloud had never had anything like it, and while it wasn't exactly a pizza, he still enjoyed the food. They had water to drink, but many other things as well. He didn't think any of them were alcoholic, but he decided to stick to the water anyway.

The last thing he needed was to be inebriated while trying to force himself to read the words on the paper and understand them.

Why did they need all of this _for two people_?! The Turks certainly weren't touching any of it, but Rufus seemed happy to delicately eat his meal, as if he were some great food connoisseur. Considering his name and background, he may very well be.

Eventually, the cadet finished reading through the document. Instead of looking up, he simply stared at it for several seconds, then began to read from the beginning again, asking for a pen and some paper to take notes on (which he promptly got). After he finished it a second time, he sat back, frowning, and looked at the mess that was supposed to be his notes. He never had been a good note taker, but he'd gotten down the gist.

"This is basically signing my life away," he eventually said. There were clauses saying he could not quit without his superior's approval, that he would not quit unless he felt he could not fulfill his duties, and there was no retirement or end date specified. He would be part of the company image and would have to act like it for the rest of his life… basically, Rufus would own him.

The older teen cocked his head to one side, curious and (again) amused. "What did you think joining SOLDIER was? This isn't much different from their contracts."

Cloud felt his expression grow incredulous. People actually – willingly – signed their lives away like this? Really? He suddenly felt sick. What had he gotten into when he'd become a cadet? Maybe… maybe this wasn't such a good idea after all. If becoming a hero meant this… was it worth it? How could he save people if he didn't have the freedom to help them? With this contract, if Rufus told him to sit by and watch as they slaughtered people, he would have to do so or risk punishment which included but was not limited to jail time, wage loss and public reprimands. He hadn't seen the word 'execution' in there (in regards to his own punishment, in any case) but somehow it felt implied…

Eventually he took a deep breath and thought back to his mother. What would she do in this situation? Well, she'd likely tell the boy off for being greedy then grab him by the ear and send him to bed to think about what he'd done. However, Cloud didn't feel like Rufus was being greedy. Somehow he got something more along the vibe of 'desperate', although he couldn't point to anything that made him think that.

It came down to how badly Rufus wanted Cloud specifically. What would he be willing to negotiate? What could Cloud negotiate for? His cooperation, he supposed. Then his eyes slid to the paper off to one side… he really didn't need that much money. Not even to send it back to his mother. So that was something he could negotiate with.

And he'd have to be as firm as possible while still remaining polite and respectful. He hadn't had a lot of practice with that, but if he treated this like he'd treated his mother when negotiating about joining ShinRa… and she hadn't even wanted him to at all. When he'd yelled and gotten emotional, she'd responded in kind and nothing had gotten done. When he'd quietly laid out his plan and reasons, it had worked better. So he had to do that here.

He took a deep breath, then straightened and stared at Rufus with as serious an expression as he could muster.

"I want to change a couple of things," he said as formally as he could, trying to think back on the manners his mother taught him (manners he'd rarely shown, so he hoped he got it right). "First, the company doesn't own me. You can't tell me what to do in my free time, company image or not. Obviously I'll try not to embarrass anyone," himself included, "but if I want to… say…" he searched his brain for something, "go drag racing, I will."

Rufus contemplated that. "Drag racing is a rather dangerous sport and could potentially lose me one of my valuable asset who I've put time and money into," he eventually said, voice a little cool although his expression remained as polite as ever. He was so much better at this than Cloud was. Of course he would be.

Still, what he said rubbed the cadet very wrong and he grit his teeth. "That's just it," he said, "I'm not just some 'asset'. I'm an ally. I'm not some _thing_ you get to throw money at until I do what you want and I hate it when people try to force or bully me into doing things I don't want to do." Well, that sounded more like the old him from Nibelheim at least. Nice to know the old him was still around.

This time, the expression Rufus shot Cloud held no amusement, although he didn't look angry either (thank Fenrir). "You don't respond to bribes or threats – yet something else that separates you from the general masses."

And now Cloud was back to blushing again. He wasn't used to compliments. Not like this. It made him very uncomfortable. Was he doing this on purpose? Probably. The jerk.

"Pray tell, then, what do you respond to?" Rufus asked.

Cloud's fists clenched and he swallowed again before looking the other teen in the eye. "The truth… and respect." Didn't everybody?

Rufus blinked, then nodded as if he should have known that, or as if it were obvious. Good. That made him feel better.

"On top of that, I want to be able to quit if I have to. If I do this, I will do it to the best of my ability," something his superior officer encouraged all the time. It had been the one thing from the man that Cloud had taken to heart. "But my mom comes first. If she needs me, I need to know I can go home if I have to."

"Hmm. I suppose I can understand that," Rufus said quietly. Then he nodded to the glasses-wearing Turk. The man sat down at the table, whipped a laptop out of _somewhere_ and started typing. Cloud blinked at him.

They were… accommodating him? Then… what else should he push for when it came to change? He tried to remember back on things he'd discussed with the recruitment officer when he'd initially come to Midgar. Something about renewing contracts? Was there a set time for that? Should he specify?

"A-and we should have to renew the contract every so often. Is ten years good?" He wasn't sure…

Rufus just stared blankly at him for several seconds, then snorted as if Cloud had said something particularly funny. Then he turned to the typing Turk.

"Put in a clause about renegotiating the contract every ten years." The red-head to the other side of Rufus actually had to turn away to hide his snicker. Great. Cloud hoped he got in trouble for that later. "Or at any other time if both parties consent. Also, Cloud can 'quit' at any time without repercussion as long as he gives the proper notifications. Discuss it with me, at least. A two-week notice is normal, I believe, unless an emergency pops up, terms to be discussed upon proper notification."

Cloud thought he'd been able to follow everything and catch everything he needed to… he wasn't sure if he had, though, but he'd done his best, and now he could get out of it if he'd made a mistake.

He glanced at the Turks, remembering the rumors and their reputation. Would Rufus demand something like that from him? "And I don't kill people," Cloud blurted out, just in case. He hoped he hadn't come across too accusing.

"Fair enough," Rufus said with a shrug, then looked at the typing Turk. "He may use lethal force at his own discretion." Then he turned back to Cloud. "I hope you know that with every caveat I make, your salary goes down." He took out another piece of paper and wrote something else down on it, then folded it and handed it to the red-head. Said Turk _strutted_ over to where Cloud was and held it out with a mocking bow.

The cadet scowled and snatched said paper from his hand. It was a significantly smaller number, but still something far over what he'd ever _dreamed_ he'd make. There were still a lot of zeros on the page.

"This is a… quarterly salary?" he asked slowly.

Rufus shrugged. "You're putting your life on the line. I'm not going to short-change you for that. It would, of course, go up as you get promoted. Oh, and you'd have a second class room here as soon as you get into SOLDIER."

How did he even know Cloud _would_ get in? He sounded so confident…

"I… don't want a free ride into the SOLDIER program," he said softly.

Rufus raised one eyebrow again. He seemed to like that expression. "Free ride?"

Cloud's hand clenched around the paper he still held. "I don't want to get in because someone bribed someone. I want to _earn_ my place." He wouldn't mooch and he didn't want to be a SOLDIER in name only.

"Oh," the older blond waved his hand nonchalantly. "I don't plan on having anyone incompetent answering to me. If you get in, you will be at the level a SOLDIER is expected to be."

"And if I don't get in…?" he asked.

Rufus blinked as if that wasn't even an option. Then he frowned and thought about it.

"Then we'll keep training until you do make it in," he said with a shrug. "I'll even set up private lessons if I have to."

Cloud flushed a little at that… again. He really hated that he did that so often. Something else he'd never done at home. The big city really did change people.

He made a vow to double down on his efforts to make himself ready for SOLDIER. Making someone _tutor_ him just to keep up with everyone else would be _beyond_ embarrassing!

Alright, so there were things about this that weren't perfect. That made him feel better, but it was still sounding too good to be true. This kind of an opportunity didn't come along often… he knew that much at least. And honestly, he didn't mind a little danger on the job. It sounded kind of exciting, actually.

Finally he nodded, because he wasn't an idiot. "Alright, I'll do it. I mean, I have to look at the contract again, but if it's changed like we agreed, I'll do it."

Rufus didn't seem to take offense to that. He, again, merely seemed amused. Was that just his default state?

"I think we'll get along just fine, Cloud."

They somehow had a portable printer. Right there.

Cloud didn't even know those existed.

Somehow, he felt his priorities might be a little screwed up at the moment.

Or maybe he was still in shock that an opportunity like this would come to _him_ of all people.

They passed him two small stacks of papers, of which he looked over both. One was for him to keep, the other for the company. And they had made the changes they said they had (even the salary… how had the Turk even known? They'd never said it aloud!). Cloud looked to make sure they hadn't added anything else. They hadn't.

So he picked up the pen, and trying to ignore the butterflies in his stomach, signed his name on both copies.

The dark-haired Turk with glasses picked up the contracts and took them to Rufus who also signed and dated both of them, then brought one of them back to Cloud.

Rufus grinned triumphantly. "Welcome to the company, Cloud."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Sorry about the long wait. I love having several different stories going at once, but my muses will often focus on one story at a time until I get blocked, and then I move to other stories. *shrug* It's how they work.
> 
> In any case, I hope you enjoyed this. It was one of my favorite chapters, showing that Cloud is indeed competent, but very inexperienced.
> 
> And don't worry, we'll see the fallout from Rufus' information gathering.
> 
> Thoughts? Ideas? You can post them here, or you can head over to my discord: discord.gg/EVUrHMd4za


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